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Evelyn smiled her slow, entrancing smile.

“I wanted you to say that, to feel about the baby as I do,” she confessed. “I couldn’t quite believe it at first. It seemed like some sort of miracle.”

“It is—just that,” Susan declared, settling her in the front passenger seat. “A miracle! It’s going to mean so much, knowing that I’m not the last of the Denhams, after all.”

Her stepmother didn’t answer her for a moment. She sat gazing down at her expensive-looking handbag, her eyes thoughtful, her generous mouth slightly compressed, as if she had something more to say which might not go down so well with Susan.

Although she was aware of the silence, Susan was determined not to ask too many questions until they had reached the privacy of their own home.

“Are you warm enough?” she asked. “There’s always a gale blowing out here, but you’ll be fine once you get to Denham. Nellie has everything prepared, and if there’s anything else you need we can pick it up on our way through Edinburgh.”

“Sue!” Evelyn smiled, “you’re determined to spoil me.

“Why not? You’re suddenly very, very important!”

“Wasn’t I—before?” Evelyn was teasing her now. “Surely the thought of the baby hasn’t made so much difference.”

Susan started the engine, looking round at her in frank amazement.

“Of course it has,” she declared. “It means that we can’t sell the mill now, whatever happens.”

Evelyn gazed out across the windy airport.

“I didn’t mean to tell you this quite so soon, Sue,” she said in a flat, almost emotionless voice, “but it’s already under discussion. Almost sold, one might say.”

“Then we can easily withdraw,” Susan decided. “Almost isn’t quite!”

“It’s far more complicated than that, I’m afraid.” Evelyn bit her lip. “This hasn’t just come up out of the blue, as you know. Denham’s has been dragging its feet a little ever since your father died. It isn’t any reflection on your work,” she hastened to add. “It’s just one of these things. Frankly, Sue, we’re not big enough.” Susan’s lips clamped into a hard line; almost as hard as her stepmother’s.

“We will be, one day,” she declared passionately as she steered the car out on to the main road. “Don’t you see, Evelyn, the baby makes all the difference? Your son will inherit Denham’s one day—another Adam! You must have given it some thought.”

“Of course I have,” Evelyn admitted in her husky voice, “but ‘my son’ could so easily turn out to be a daughter, Sue. Even if there was time to consider it, we have to think of that, too.”

Susan moved uneasily.

“Why do you say there’s so little time?” she demanded.

“Because, my dear, it’s unfortunately true.” Evelyn put a gentle, expensively-gloved hand on her arm. “Time doesn’t wait for babies to be born, even important babies like this one.”

“Three months!” Susan scoffed. “That isn’t so long.”

“It’s too long to wait, and certainly we would never get another offer like this one.”

“Evelyn,” Susan said desperately, “I don’t want to sell.”

“Neither do I,” her stepmother agreed. “It’s not the money I’m thinking about,” she added after a pause, “although that would be considerable. It’s the opportunity I’m doubtful about. You see, we either have to sell while Denham’s is in a healthy state or take far less for it in the near future.”

“There must be some other way,” Susan muttered doggedly. “Do you want to go through Edinburgh?”

“We needn’t,” Evelyn said, her eyes suddenly misty. “I’d like to get home as quickly as possible.”

“It would give you a rest after the flight. We could have a cup of tea somewhere.”

Evelyn’s ready smile drove the seriousness from her lovely face.

“Don’t pamper me,” she laughed, “or I won’t want to go away again.”

“You’re not going back to London,” Susan said definitely. “They can quite well do without you down there, under the circumstances.”

“Under the circumstances, I must go back,” Evelyn told her. “Nothing’s settled, Sue. It’s either sell outright or merge with another firm, now that we have the chance.”

“Merge?”

“Yes. Oh, this is too bad,” Evelyn sighed, “plunging you into business worries as soon as we meet.”

“You
mustn’t worry,” Susan answered. “Leave that to me.

Evelyn gave a little, secret smile as she watched the road ahead.

“It might prove easy to do from this end,” she said enigmatically, “but we can’t make up our minds in
a
hurry, as you say.”

“But surely we are in a hurry?” Susan challenged. “You do expect the baby in about three months’ time, don’t you?”

“Less,” Evelyn informed her with a dreamy, maternal look. “In eleven weeks, if he decides to arrive on time.”

“There you are!” Susan exalted. “‘He’, you said. You really do want a son.”

“A boy would be very nice,” Evelyn agreed quietly, “but really, I won’t care too much if it turns out to be another daughter.”

“A girl!” Susan exclaimed. “It can’t be. It just can’t, and that’s final! We need another Adam Denham, Evelyn, more than anything else in the world.”

They drove in silence for over a mile.

“Don’t set your heart on it, Sue,” Evelyn said, as if they had just finished their discussion a moment ago. “About it being a boy,” she added. “Even if it is, twenty years is far too far to look ahead, and too long for us to wait.”

“You mean that you—wouldn’t want to wait?” Susan was incredulous. “You can’t mean that you wouldn’t do this for Denham’s.”

“I would give my life gladly for Denham’s,” Evelyn said, “but this isn’t quite the same. We haven’t got time on our side, Sue. Not that sort of time. The best we could do—the very best—would be to merge, if we got the chance.”

“And who might be going to give us this wonderful opportunity?” Susan demanded acidly. “One of the Big Five, would you say, or some French couturier with money to burn who just fancies a nice little mill into the bargain?”

“Neither.” Evelyn shook her head. “Can we leave it till we get home, Sue? I’ve got the beginnings of a migraine, I’m afraid.”

“What an idiot I am!” Susan was immediate in her concern. “I ought to have more sense than to argue like that. You must be dead beat!”

“I’ve never felt better in my life, apart from the head,” Evelyn declared. “Tell me about the mill.”

“It’s ticking over quite well, as you know.” Susan wanted so desperately to convince her stepmother that all was well with Denham’s, although Evelyn probably knew differently. “We’ve got plenty of export orders coming along and we’re working full shifts. The new frames Dad put in just before he died are paying off now, and we’ve a backlog of orders for the home market, too, mostly from the big Midland stores and the north of England.”

“You’ve forgotten Scotland, surely!” Evelyn reminded her.

“We take Scotland for granted. It’s an established trade north of the Border. We don’t have to press sales.”

“But we do have to keep on our toes.” Evelyn was the businesswoman now. “Nobody can afford to rest on their laurels these days, Sue, although there’s still ample opportunity for the firm with ideas and the desire to expand.”

“You think we’ve been too conservative?” Susan asked, bridling a little at the implied criticism of her father’s methods.

“Adam meant to expand.” Evelyn’s gaze was fixed on the road ahead. “He would have done it in his own time, but I can’t help wondering if that would have been soon enough. He was content up here, Sue, happy in his Border stronghold, but one has to work in London to understand what competition is all about. You have to be ruthless and you have to seize the chances as they come along. But we said we weren’t going to discuss business any more!” she ended on a jocular note.

“What else is there to discuss,” Susan wanted to know, “apart from business and the baby?”

“There’s you.” Evelyn was serious again. “You
won’t
want to work all your life, Sue, even at Denham’s.”

“At the moment,” Susan said definitely, “I’m more concerned about Denham’s than anything else.”

“What about Fergus Graeme?”

“Oh, Fergus!” Susan paused. “I suppose he’s willing to wait.”

“For how long?” Evelyn asked. “Certainly not for twenty years,” she added when there was no immediate answer from her stepdaughter.

“You know I wouldn’t keep him dangling as long as that,” Susan declared. “Besides, I haven’t asked him to wait.”

“Has he asked you to marry him?”

Susan flushed.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, he has.”

“And you turned him down ?”

“Sort of.”

“Was that wise, if you care for him?”

“I like him,” Susan amended. “That’s different, isn’t it?”

“Much different,” her stepmother agreed immediately.

“How can you be sure when you
are
in love?” Susan demanded.

“You’ll know,” Evelyn said, “when the time comes.”

“That’s no explanation! ”

“It’s the best answer I can give you.”

“You were—very much in love with Dad.”

“Yes.” Evelyn’s lips curved in a wistful smile. “Everybody could see it, I expect, but who wants to hide love? I think I’ll change my mind about that cup of tea,” she added cheerfully. “Could we stop somewhere on the way?”

“How would Peebles do?” Susan suggested. “It’s just as easy to go back that way.”

Wether Law was in the distance and they could see the summit of Dunslair Heights, with Whitehope and Windlestraw in the background, all the green Laws shouldering each other to the south and east between the deeply-hidden dales. When Neidpath Castle came into view Evelyn heaved a contented sigh.

“I’m almost home,” she said. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve longed for it!”

“Yet a few miles back you were prattling about your return to London!”

“I may have to go back,” Evelyn said, “but not for too long, I hope. Miss Bates is learning fast, and I could almost leave her in charge down there now.”

It seemed to Susan that Evelyn always pulled up just short of a final statement, as if she couldn’t be sure of the future or of her decision about it, but they were already on the outskirts of Peebles and it was no time for further argument.

When they reached the hydro, they were just in time for tea. The big hotel was already full, but Evelyn was known to the head waiter and they were soon accommodated at a table near the terrace windows. Evelyn could always accomplish that sort of thing with the minimum of effort, and Susan tried to study her impartially as they sat down.

Her stepmother was small and chic, with a delicately-proportioned face and large, grey-green eyes which belied the practical side of her personality, giving her the startled expression of a faun. People had called her appealing and sweet and even beautiful, but she was none of these things alone. She had a shrewd, observant mind, allied to a tough constitution, and she had been trained to assess people in the business world in the hard school of experience. She was also aware of the folly of speaking her mind without restraint or reaching a decision too quickly, but, above all, she had tact.

Charm, Susan called it, as indeed it was, that elusive ‘something’ which lifts a woman above the ordinary and never deserts her during the whole of her lifetime.

Today Evelyn wore red, a deep, subtle cranberry colour which suited her to perfection. The waiter had relieved her of the bulky checked travelling coat and she seemed smaller than ever as she sank into the depths of her comfortable chair. Pregnancy suited her. It gave her a glow which radiated from her unusual eyes to transform her whole face, and Susan envied her the composure of her clasped hands and her whole, relaxed manner as she waited for her tea.

“I’ve so much I want to ask you,” she confessed, “I don’t know where to begin.”

“Let me tell you about London,” Evelyn offered. “You should come up there more often, Sue. You’re young, and you ought to go to parties and trip around the shops.”

“And struggle for buses, or get squeezed to death on the Underground, or rushed off my feet in an effort to get from one place to the next on time? No, thank you!” Susan decided. “London’s not for me. I like it up here, in the quiet of my hills. They’re not so quiet, either,” she went on, “when you come to think about it. There’s always plenty to do, quite apart from work.”

“Horses, and that sort of thing?”

“Not just horses,” Susan laughed. “I’ve sold Hope’s Star, by the way.” She did her best to keep her voice steady. “She went at the Kelso sales. It was foolish trying to keep two horses,” she added flatly.

“Do you know who bought her?” Evelyn asked, her voice full of ready sympathy.

“Yes,” Susan’s tone was abrupt. “He seems to be buying up everything around here, but we don’t have to
know
him,” she warned. “He bought Bucksfoot from Fergus Graeme, and now he has Hope’s Star,” she added disconsolately. “It must give you a tremendous feeling of power to have so much money, Evelyn.”

“Not necessarily, but it does help. One can have the things one wants in a strictly material sense, of course, but not everything," Evelyn pointed out. “Why did Fergus decide to part with Bucksfoot?”

“For the same reason I had to sell Hope’s Star. Colin has gone to Canada and Fergus is on his own at the Mains.” Susan looked down at her plate. “I’m not complaining,” she added hastily. “We have to begin with economies if we’re going to save Denham’s.”

“What a place this is!” Evelyn remarked without answering that final observation. “Always crowded and always the same! I used to come here with your father when we wanted a short run out in the evening or he decided to play golf.” She drew in a deep breath. “He was very fond of Peebles.”

Susan turned in her chair.

“Did he know?” she asked.

Evelyn poured out their tea.

“About the baby? I think he did, just before he died,” she said. “I wasn’t sure then—not absolutely sure.”

“And he still left his will the way he did?”

“Yes.” Evelyn looked up from the tea cups. “What else could he have done, Sue? He had faith in my judgment, you see.”

The quiet statement had been chosen to end all argument on the subject, Susan realized, at least for the present. Evelyn had been left the controlling interest in Denham’s, which was reasonable enough, and she meant to keep it.